


Another Circus

by sailorstar165



Series: Allen's Life at the Circus [1]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Allen has trust issues, Allen takes care of Mana, Circus, Gen, Mana means well, Mana takes care of Allen, Mana's a Little Crazy, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, child allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorstar165/pseuds/sailorstar165
Summary: Mana and Allen join up with a circus, one Allen isn't so sure about. These people are way too friendly to be sane.
Relationships: Allen Walker & Mana Walker
Series: Allen's Life at the Circus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634914
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Another Circus

“Allen” had been traveling with Mana for a couple of months now, but spring was slow coming. There wasn’t much to eat, and nights were spent under the stars in the cold. It almost made Allen miss the Garvey troupe. Almost. Maybe this circus would be better.

They’d only just rounded the tent to where the performers called home, and already Allen could tell it was a lively bunch. They were too friendly, smiling and laughing while they worked together to unpack and set up. A few waved excitedly at Mana as they passed, ignoring Allen entirely as they called the clown “Walker” and joked with him. They told him where to find the boss (a woman by the name of Raine Sanders, Allen gleaned from the smattering of conversation around them), and Mana thanked them before making his way towards the sky-blue trailer among the rest in the back. Still, no one paid Allen any mind.

At least, not until they found the boss. She was a tall woman with golden hair and green eyes. She, like the rest of the circus, seemed far too welcoming to be genuine.

“Ah! If it isn’t Mana Walker,” she said brightly, turning from the task at hand. Raine called to the others to take over, and they all called their greetings to the new arrival before getting back to work.

Her eyes fell on Allen, and though she kept her smile steady, he could see something in her eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked. Suspicion? Irritation? Allen’s first instinct was to duck behind Mana, and he silently cursed himself for it. When had he become so reliant on Mana? So instead, he pushed the urge to hide down and glared at the troupe leader.

This seemed to amuse her, which in turn pissed Allen off even more. She knelt down on the cold hard ground to look Allen in the eye. “And who might you be, Little One?”

“I’m not lil’!” Allen snapped at the same time Mana patted him on the head and said, “You remember Allen! He was with me last time.”

Allen felt the color drain from his face as he glanced up at Mana. They’d been over this any number of times. He wasn’t that dog, even if he had accepted that his name once belonged to the clown’s former assistant. He’d thought this was finally starting to get through to Mana in the last few weeks, but apparently, he’d slipped back into old habits again.

The woman seemed equally surprised by Mana’s statement. Her smile had slipped as she stared up at the clown’s happy face. Then she sighed and asked Allen, “He didn’t kidnap you, did he?”

“’Course not!” The pity and understanding in her eyes at his response ticked him off even more than her accusation.

“I’m hurt you’d think that.” Despite the words, Mana’s face and voice were still all smiles.

“Any reasonable person would think that,” Raine replied. She returned her focus to Allen. “So what should I call you, Little One?”

Allen stared at her. She was giving him an out? A chance to be someone other than Red Arm? Other than “Allen?”

Mana opened his mouth, then closed it again when Raine shot him a sharp glare. She really was. A small part of Allen wished he had a name to give her besides the one Mana had bestowed upon him. That name was all he had though, and it was the one he gave her.

If she was disappointed or surprised by this, Raine didn’t show it. She just mussed up Allen’s hair. “Nice to meet you, Allen.” He responded by swatting her hand away.

With a chuckle, she stood and brushed off her trousers. To Mana, she said, “We should work out your contract before we get distracted and forget.” Raine glanced around the fairgrounds. “Allen, do you like magic tricks?”

“Huh?” Where had that come from?

“Our magician was just saying he wanted an audience to test a new trick. Figured you could give him a hand with that while Mr. Walker and I work out the boring stuff.” She spotted the person she was looking for.

Before she could call him over, though, Allen said, “I’m comin’ too.” He didn’t trust this woman not to take advantage of Mana, and honestly, he didn’t trust Mana not to get hoodwinked. Not when he seemed to be seeing “Allen” the dog and not “Allen” the boy again.

“Suit yourself.” Raine led the way to the trailer Allen had spotted earlier. She gestured them to have a seat while she dug through a drawer in her desk.

Allen listened closely as Raine went over the details. She’d said it was pretty much the same as last time, but Allen demanded she go over it again. He hadn’t been here last time; he didn’t know if Mana had accepted a raw deal. Not that Allen really understood the finer points of a contract. He hadn’t exactly had one at the Garvey troupe.

It seemed reasonable, though. Room, board, that sort of thing. When she told them what the pay would be, both performers were surprised. Allen wasn’t sure how much they paid at the Garvey troupe, but the number seemed extravagant compared to his imagined figures.

“That’s more than last time,” Mana said, taking the paper from Raine and reading it over. There was still a blank space where she would write in their salary once they came to an agreement, so there wasn’t much point.

“Because there are two of you now,” Raine replied as if it were obvious.

“But Allen was—”

“Mr. Walker,” Raine reminded him patiently, “this is the first time I’m meeting this Allen.”

Allen busied himself by looking over the contract. Not that he could read it. He just didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes again.

The two adults finished working out the details, and the contract was signed. Raine even offered to have Allen sign it as well, though he wasn’t sure why. At this point, he didn’t think it was to pick on him for his name, which he had to ask Mana how to spell and write. Maybe she was trying to give him another opportunity to define himself separately from the clown’s dead dog, but it didn’t matter. Allen didn’t have any other name he wanted to give her anyway.

That done, Raine checked her pocket watch and told them to grab a bite to eat. They could help with set up later.

Unlike the previous circus, everyone here ate together in the same tent with no hierarchy for who ate first. Allen eyed their new coworkers. They were just too damn happy to be trusted. Either they were hiding something, or they were all crazy. No one should be this damned happy.

The food was good though. It never crossed Allen’s mind as he ate that this might be why everyone was smiling and laughing. This was a circus just like the Garvey troupe. No one was here because they wanted to be, were they?

“Hey! Mana! That you?”

Two women grinned down at the pair. Mana peered up at them, tilted his head in mild confusion, and said, “I’m sorry, I’m bad with faces.” He looked to Allen, as if the kid might recognize these two. Apparently, he’d already forgotten that Allen had not, in fact, been part of this circus before.

The two seemed to take this well enough. “Jody and Judy. The clown siblings, remember?”

Allen frowned at them. They looked nothing alike other than their height. No way they were related. And no way they weren’t offended that Mana had forgotten them.

They kept up their act anyway. Even when they noticed that Allen was scowling at them. Judy let out a squeal of delight and threw her arms around him. “Where on God’s green Earth did you pick up this cutie?”

Allen hadn’t expected that. He stiffened, a rabbit caught in a trap. Then his reaction went in the complete opposite direction. “Lemme go!” he screamed as loudly as his little lungs would let him. He threw her arms off when they loosened in surprise and scrambled away, breathing ragged.

People were staring now. His eyes flicked from face to face, panic rising. He hadn’t meant to cause such a scene. He could feel his face reddening. He cursed the knot of fear. Could they see his hand? They probably could. They were all staring at it. At him. His breath was coming quicker. Someone was going to hit him. To yell at him for causing trouble. To—

Mana patted him on the head, a big goofy grin on his face. “It’s all right, Allen,” he said, his voice soothing. He was looking at him, at the boy “Allen,” not the dog. He must have been sane again, if only for a few minutes. Allen was grateful for that. Mana could handle this.

While Mana explained in his sing-songy smiley way to Judy that grabbing Allen out of the blue was a bad idea, Allen cursed himself. Again, he was relying on Mana when he had sworn to himself that he’d be the one taking care of the crazy clown. Somehow, he’d lost his grit after traveling with Mana in such a short time. He wouldn’t have frozen like that at the Garvey troupe. He wouldn’t have felt that tightening in his chest. He would have thrown punches and gotten the stuffing beaten out of him in return.

This woman wasn’t even a real threat. She was stronger than she looked—most clowns worth their salt were—but she didn’t look a scoundrel like Cosimo. Her arms had been easy to escape. She hadn’t even been holding him that tightly to begin with.

“Shit,” Judy muttered under her breath. She knelt down the way Raine had earlier to be at eye-level with him. “Sorry, Allen. I shouldn’t’ve done that.”

Allen blinked at her. What had Mana told the pair? He hadn’t been paying attention. He felt Mana give him a small nudge. “It’s fine,” he muttered. He wasn’t about to admit that it was partly his fault like Mana had tried to teach him. It wasn’t his fault that the woman had grabbed him out of nowhere. His reaction, though maybe a bit overblown, was perfectly reasonable, all things considered.

Mana laughed and pulled Allen into a hug, ignoring his own advice from earlier about hugging Allen without warning. It was fine though. Mana was Mana. Mana was safe. If Mana wanted to hug him, Allen would let him.

* * *

The first few days were surprisingly uneventful. Day one, Allen and Mana just helped set up the circus. Neither were given tasks beyond their abilities, nor were they worked into the ground as Allen had been before. In fact, no one seemed to be treated the way Allen had been in the past. _The hell’s with this place?_ he found himself thinking. He and Mana even had their own little trailer to share. Not some straw mat on the cold ground in the corner of a tent. An actual honest-to-God trailer!

Then the next day, Allen let Mana fuss over him and get him into costume. He’d learned that no amount of eyerolling and griping would deter the clown from gushing over how adorable a clown Allen made. Well, he still rolled his eyes and complained, but he no longer expected it to actually stop Mana from being, well, Mana.

Jody and Judy watched with amusement while Mana did Allen’s makeup. They weren’t saying it, but Allen could feel it in their gaze. They, too, thought he was a charming little clown. And it definitely didn’t escape their notice how he held still and stopped complaining when Mana began to work on his makeup. Allen glowered at them whenever Mana turned to get a new color, daring them to start something, but they didn't.

Their first show—Allen’s first performance with Mana before a circus audience—went off without a hitch. There was no backstabbing as he had seen before at the Garvey troupe. Backstage, everyone was silently helping by gathering or wiping down props and giving pats on the back or quiet words of encouragement when someone looked like they needed it. And after the show ended, when congratulations on a job well done were genuinely shared, a small party was thrown. One that even the non-performers were allowed to join in.

“The hell’s goin’ on?” Allen muttered to himself, staring at the glass of juice they’d given him like it was a foreign substance. They hadn’t even given Mana a hard time when he said he didn’t drink; they’d just given him a glass of juice like they had Allen for the toast.

“They like to party,” explained the magician Karos with a small chuckle. He’d joined Allen and Mana after the toast had ended and the others had begun to get overly enthusiastic. In his hands was the ever-present deck of cards Allen had seen him shuffling over and over like it was some nervous tick.

“Ya don’t?” Allen sipped his juice. It really was just juice. They hadn’t lied and snuck him wine so he’d be in trouble later.

Karos shrugged. He fanned out the cards, and Mana happily chose one. “Sometimes.” He took Mana’s choice back and shuffled. Allen noticed when Karos tucked the card into his sleeve. He didn’t say anything though, not wanting to ruin Mana's fun.

Mana, a little more normal today, explained that Karos was a bit of an introvert, meaning he preferred quiet to crowds to unwind. Allen had to wonder what the man was doing then as a performer but didn’t ask. He didn’t care much one way or the other, if he was being honest. Instead, he just watched as Karos magically produced Mana’s card from behind the clown’s ear. This time, Allen didn’t spot when Karos had retrieved the card from his sleeve.

“Would you like to try?” the magician asked, offering Allen a chance to choose a card.

The boy didn’t move. “I don’t like magic tricks,” he stated flatly. “Ya just stuff the cards up yer sleeve. I saw ya do it.”

Karos chuckled. “Then I’ll just have to keep practicing so you don’t see.” He folded his hand and shuffled it back into the deck. “Thanks for being honest,” he added. “The best kind of audience to practice with are the ones looking for your mistakes.”

Allen frowned. This bloke was just as weird as the rest of them. Had he and Mana accidentally wandered into an open-air asylum instead of a circus?

* * *

Things started going wrong a week into their tenure. Allen woke that morning coughing with his head feeling heavy. Once he was awake, he held back the coughs best he could and kept quiet. He told himself it was so he could keep working (“You don’t work, you don’t eat!” as Mr. Garvey used to snap at him), but really, he just didn’t want to worry Mana. Even if he’d rather have his tongue cut out than admit it.

Too bad Raine wasn’t fooled by his act, even if Mana had been.

He’d made the mistake of letting his guard down and coughing while Mana was off getting them their breakfast in the food tent. After having suppressed it so much, the coughs came back hard, making him shake and gasp for breath when the fit was over.

Raine was on him in an instant, ignoring all of Mana’s previous warnings about getting too up-close-and-personal with Allen and easily slipping under the sick boy’s defenses. Her hand was cool against his forehead, and it took him far too long to react indignantly to her touch.

“How long’ve you been feeling sick?” she demanded.

Allen pushed her hand away. “I’m not sick.” The denial rung a bit hollow when his voice proved just how congested he was.

She sighed. More patiently this time: “Little One, if you aren’t feeling well, you should tell Mana.”

He glared. “I’m not lil’, an’ I’m not sick.” As if to spite him, more coughs forced their way out. He stifled them with his shoulder.

Mana returned then with two plates of bacon and eggs. He tilted his head in confusion at Raine. He was less lucid today than usual—part of the reason Allen had been able to hide his coughs so easily. “What’s the matter, Cornelia?”

Raine rolled her eyes. Even with his brain feeling foggy, Allen could tell this wasn’t the first time Mana had called her the wrong name, and a small part of him was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one subject to Mana’s lapses. “And if he’s being… well…” she gestured vaguely at the man in question, “you should tell me.”

Turning to Mana, she explained, “Allen’s a little under the weather and didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m _not_ _sick_ ,” Allen repeated. This time, he was successful in holding the coughs back.

Mana stared at him. He set the plates down and touched Allen’s forehead himself the same way Raine had before. His eyes widened. “You’re burning up!”

This was the reaction Allen didn’t want. He didn’t want to worry Mana. Especially not when Mana wasn’t right in the head again.

“He’s not _that_ bad,” Raine said quickly, realizing her mistake. “It’s probably just a cold.”

Mana was beginning to panic; Allen could see it in his eyes. The child gave Raine a dirty look. His head hurt too much to deal with this, and his thoughts were too murky to think how best to remedy the situation.

Noticing this, Raine took the clown by the shoulders, turned him to face her, and placed her hands on his cheeks. Mana flinched back as if she had struck him, but she pressed her hands more firmly in response.

“Deep breaths, Walker,” she said, her voice steady. The tone left no room for argument. Mana did as he was told. “Allen’s caught a cold. That’s all. He’ll be fine.” Mana nodded, but he still looked confused. His hand traveled up to hers, as if not entirely sure something was touching his cheek.

“I have paperwork to do today,” Raine continued evenly. “I’ll keep an eye on him for a while. You go with Jody and Judy to hand out flyers and get your head back on straight. Understand?” He nodded again. “Good.”

She released him. “You hear that, Jody? Judy?”

The two in question gave mock salutes. “Yes ma’am!” They, too, didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his breakdown.

Back to Mana, her voice a little lower now so only Mana and Allen could hear, “You’re fine. The Earl’s not coming for you.”

That said, she scooped Allen into her arms. Between the fever and how stunned he felt by her handling of Mana, he didn’t resist as she carried him back to the trailer he shared with Mana. He only regained his voice when she’d sat him down on his bed.

“How d’ya know ‘bout the Earl?” he demanded before more coughs wracked his tiny frame.

“Mr. Walker’s mentioned him before. Tragedy brings the Earl or something like that,” Raine explained, kneeling to pull off Allen’s boots for him. The child jerked his foot away and did it himself. As she watched, she asked, “Do you know who Cornelia is? I still haven’t figured that one out.”

Allen shrugged. He hadn’t heard the name before. He wasn’t sure who the “Earl” was either, other than it was someone Mana was afraid of. Mana had cried out in his sleep often enough during nightmares, and each time, Allen had dutifully crawled into bed with the clown the same way he figured the old “Allen” used to.

Raine grabbed Mana’s pillow and placed it on top of Allen’s before gently pushing the boy down and tucking him in. Allen was too tired to do anything but comply this time. His head was throbbing, and it was a relief to not have to sit up anymore, though he didn’t want to admit that to the circus manager.

“Can I trust you to stay put?” She got an irritated grunt for confirmation and chuckled. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Once she was gone, Allen settled in and pulled the blankets more tightly around himself. He was beginning to doze off when the woman returned, stack of papers tucked under one arm and a pair of mugs clutched in her other hand. Allen watched her warily as she nudged a chair closer to his bed, dumped her papers on the seat, and pushed one of the mugs into his hands.

Then she retrieved her papers and plopped down to look them over. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry or not,” she explained. “Want me to get you some breakfast?”

For once, Allen wasn’t feeling all that hungry, but the warm milk was welcome. “No thanks.” He drank. It tasted of honey, cinnamon, and nutmeg, something he hadn’t expected at all. For a moment, he was torn and glowered at the mug in his hands. It had felt good on his sore throat, but suspicion was coming out full force again.

“Don’t like it?” Raine asked, watching him and sipping her coffee.

“What’re ya up to?”

Raine snorted at this. “I’m the leader of this circus, and I can spoil a sick kid if I want.” When he didn’t stop glaring at her, she added, “I should’ve known he’d react that way. Think of it as an apology since you’ll have to deal with him later.”

“Well thanks,” he said, sarcasm dripping from each word. He drank the milk anyway. It was soothing going down and helped a little to banish the coughing.

Once he was done, Raine took the empty mug and set it next to her half-empty coffee cup. He watched her go back to her work, which seemed to consist of her scratching at paper with a pencil when she wasn’t chewing on the unsharpened end. Now that his throat wasn’t hurting as much and the pillows that propped him up were helping him breathe, Allen was getting sleepy again, but he refused to close his eyes, not with her there.

It didn’t help that Raine was starting to hum to herself, then to sing quietly while she scribbled. He didn’t trust her and didn’t want to sleep in her presence, but she wasn’t leaving. In fact, she seemed to be ignoring the glares he sent her way on purpose. Whatever she was working on couldn’t be _that_ engrossing.

Despite his best efforts, she was winning this war of attrition. His eyelids drooped, and after a while, he nodded off.

* * *

Something weighed down the mattress next to Allen when he blinked his eyes open. Next to him, he found Mana snoozing peacefully in a chair and resting his head on his arms on Allen’s bed. Someone had thrown a blanket around his shoulders, and his expression was content.

“How’re you feeling?”

Allen looked up. Apparently, Mana had commandeered Raine’s chair, for she was now perched on the clown’s bed with her papers scattered about her. Her pencil was thoroughly chewed up now, but she appeared triumphant as she set aside the last page.

He eyed her suspiciously. “Fine,” he croaked.

“That’s good.” She stood, stretched, then began shuffling her papers back into some semblance of a stack. “He came back about a half hour ago all excited to see you, you know,” said Raine, gesturing to Mana. “Then when you didn’t wake up right away, he fell asleep.” She shook her head. “I have to wonder which one of you is the kid.”

Allen did his best not to nod, even if he agreed whole-heartedly with her assessment. Sometimes he himself wondered how Mana had managed before him, particularly on his bad days.

Not wanting to think about that, Allen poked Mana’s forehead to wake him up. The man started and glanced around. “Allen!” he cheered, pulling the boy into a hug. “Are you feeling better now?”

Allen nodded against his chest. His head was still stuffed up, but his throat didn’t feel as scratchy.

“Whelp, I need to start herding the cats for the show tonight,” Raine said, heading for the door. “I’ll ask someone to bring you a bite to eat.”

“You don’t have to, Miss Sanders,” Mana said quickly. “I can get something for us.”

“Suit yourself.” She waved to Allen. “Get well soon, Little One.”

“I’m _not_ lil’!” he snapped. His anger only grew as she closed the door laughing.

While Allen fumed, Mana touched his forehead. “Your fever’s gone down. Are you hungry?” Allen’s stomach growled loudly in response, and Mana chuckled. “I’ll go get us something.”

Once they had both eaten, Mana proceeded to tell Allen what he’d missed that morning. And once he’d run out of things to say about Jody and Judy’s antics while passing out fliers, he fell back on his usual stories about golems and magic and others that would be right at home in a book of fairy stories.

Allen was glad to see Mana so happy and animated after the morning’s panic. As the afternoon wore on, though, he was relieved when Karos poked his head in to tell Mana that he had to start getting ready for the show. Mana’s excitement had left him feeling drained again.

“Ah, is it time already?” Mana patted Allen on the head. “I’ll be right back.”

“Break a leg,” Allen muttered, waving as Mana grabbed his costume and headed out the door. He waited a few minutes to make sure the man hadn’t forgotten anything, then settled back in for more sleep. He didn’t hear when Mana returned hours later, nor did he wake when Mana climbed into bed with him and held him close, though his dreams had taken a more pleasant turn.

* * *

When it was time for the circus to move on, Mana and Allen saw them off, one with a bright smile, the other with a frown. Allen still wasn’t entirely convinced they hadn’t joined up with a bunch of lunatics. Raine even paid them the full amount promised, even though Allen had been sick in bed for two whole days.

As the pair left, Allen’s hand in Mana’s, the boy couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder. Mana caught him watching the circus trailers disappear in the distance and smiled. “Want us to go with them? We could probably catch up.”

Allen shook his head. “They’re all nuts. I can’t figure ‘em out.”

His companion chuckled. “Did you have fun?”

The boy stared up at Mana. Fun? At a circus? Circuses were _work_ , not fun. But as they kept walking, and Allen mulled the question over, he said at last, “Yeah, a lil’ bit.”

Mana’s hummed to himself. “Then we’ll have to join up again next time we see them. I think Cornelia liked you a lot.”

Allen rolled his eyes. “Her name’s Raine,” he reminded the man.

“Ah, yes, you’re right.”

Allen wasn’t sure if Mana actually remembered, but for now it was fine. Next time they ran into the circus, Allen would be there to remind him. He squeezed Mana’s hand. He’d always be there for him.


End file.
